


Permantly Flawed

by Waywocket



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Image issue, Prompto late game spoilers, Scars, Spoilers, mentions of self harm, self hate, stretch marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 19:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waywocket/pseuds/Waywocket
Summary: Weight changes mean stretch marks if you do it too quickly, that's something Prompto has to live with now.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I tried something a little more angsty this time. Not sure how I really feel about this one, I didn't want to get stuck in the self hate loop (I'm sure you know what I mean) so I did my best to give him a bit of hope. Go ahead and tell me how bad I did! I'll keep trying to get better!

In the dim morning light, the shutter of a camera sounded, immortalizing the figure in glass. With a heavy sigh, Prompto continued to stare at his reflection in his room. Angry red lines ran along long faded pink ones, up his stomach, down his thighs and up his chest, through his arms. Holding up the first picture he took, the difference was obvious, he was so much bigger than he was now, but his skin still moved of it’s own accord. It jiggled when he ran, he could feel it move under his shirt, no matter how tight a shirt he wore. 

Running a hand down his chest, Prompto felt his fingers dip into the creases of his skin, or raise over the fresh marks that marred his skin. The skin wasn’t tender but he still winced as he felt it under his finger tips, a permanent mark, proving he was flawed. Down his chest, and at his stomach, he sighed, grabbing at the skin there, tugging on it angrily. No matter how much he ran, or even tried to tone his stomach would it go away. Prompto wished he could just cut it off and be done with it, but he knew it was futile, he would just be even more marred and deformed. 

Lower still he pulled up on the boxers that covered his thighs, exposing the marks hiding there as well. Those were mostly the faded pink of his childhood, when the weight first started to be put on, but a few dark marks hid among them, though those were mostly fresh, from his legs growing as his muscle built. Following the lines, they stopped well above his knee, at least he could wear shorts he thought. At least some of his skin was smooth and prefect, he would just have to make sure that was all people saw.

Pulling on his school uniform, Prompto looked at the mirror again, he could see the skin pushing under his shirt. He hated it, he hated himself. All he wanted was to be good enough, to be able to fit in. Unfastening his belt, Prompto let his pants slip off his hips and lifted his shirt, glaring at the offending skin. Clawing at it, he felt his nails digging into it, leaving temporary marks, before reaching for a piece of fabric laying over his dresser. Pulling the garter around him, he fastened each clasp as it lay over his hips and waist. Quickly pulling up his pants and shoving his shirt into his pants, he looked into the mirror again. It was there, but less pronounced, it would have to do. Knotting his tie, he made sure it was perfect before smoothing out his hair. 

After checking himself over, Prompto check his wrist band again. Everything looked perfect, his hair was smooth not a hair out of place, his shirt tucked in perfectly and his shirt and jacket were nestled perfectly on his torso. He groaned. Too perfect he thought, tugging at his shirt, letting part of it hang loose. Then rolling up his sleeves he looked again in the mirror, glaring at himself. He just could not agree with his reflection. Pulling off old round glasses, he tried again, squinting at his reflection.

Raising his brows, he grinned. Much better without the glasses he thought to himself, placing them gently on his dresser. Making minor adjustments, Prompto hummed softly to himself. He looked the part he thought, limited vision was worth the image, for awhile. Surely his parents would agree to contacts, and they should be easy to put in. He held a camera in his face all day, how hard would putting the lens straight onto his eye really be. As satisfied as he was going to get, Prompto grabbed his camera, quickly making his way down the stairs slipping on his shoes and making his way out the door. 

Nearly running, Prompto quickly made his way to school, slowing to a walk halfway through, then slowing again to a stop. Holding a hand over his stomach, Prompto closed his eyes and shook his head. Everything was a lie. Covering stretch marks and scars, pinning skin under woman’s clothing. Walking partly blind because his glasses were old cheap insurance glasses, not the stylish ones many kids at school wore. Not too mention the wrist band, his greatest lie of all, pretending to be a true citizen of Insomnia instead of a Niflheim beast. He felt his nails raking over the bar code, digging into the scars there, wishing he could just pull it away, but he always chickened out. 

Turning around, Prompto made to go home, maybe he should just stay there, he would never be good enough. As he walked, hands shoved deep into his pockets, he thought back to the note he had tucked away there. Lady Lunafreya was counting on him, he couldn’t let the Oracle down. Stopping again, he noticed the looks he was getting, and felt his cheeks start to burn, and his doubts returned, who would want to be friends with someone as weird as him anyway. Covering his ears, he bent his head down, he just wanted to be good enough. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, Prompto wanted to run away as far as his legs would take him, but no matter how far he ran, he would never get away from himself he knew that. 

Taking a deep and shaky breath, he looked into the sky, watching the clouds as they drifted by. Lady Lunafreya had reached out to him to befriend prince Noctis, maybe she knew something he could not see. She had chosen him, and that must have meant something. Turning on his heels, he began running again, toward the school, where Noctis was waiting. Prompto may be full of flaws, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. Maybe wasn’t what a prince’s friend should be, but he still deserved a friend, and Prompto could be that.


End file.
